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- Herausgeber: Wayne Kyle Spitzer
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
They streamed out from the tree line in a veritable blitzkrieg, the guns of the tanks rotating and firing, the foot soldiers alternately taking cover behind vehicles and squeezing off bursts, the raptors and triceratops and stegosaurs charging—as Red and Charlotte and Roger and Savanna continued shooting and the children ran ammo and Bella lit the gasoline trenches, as Gojira and the clerk prepared shoulder-mounted rocket launchers. As hundreds of others joined the battle belatedly and began to kill and to be killed. And then they were there; they were at the gates, and the triceratops and stegosaurs had waded into the burning trenches and begun serving as bridges—sacrificing themselves so that the raptors and the foot soldiers could cross—even as a column of bulldozers fanned out along the perimeter and prepared to break the lines for good: dropping their blades—which rattled and clinked against the hail of gunfire—revving their engines, spewing black smoke. “Bayonets!” cried Red as the raptors fell upon them, thrusting his own so that it skewered one of the dinosaurs like a shish kabob even before he used its own weight and momentum to swing it over and behind himself.
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A Dinosaur is a Man’s Best Friend
by
Wayne Kyle Spitzer
Table of Contents
Title Page
A Dinosaur Is A Man's Best Friend: "The Hammer of El Shaddai" (A Dinosaur Is A Man's Best Friend (A Serialized Novel), #10)
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A new novel set in the Flashback universe
Copyright © 2018 Wayne Kyle Spitzer. All Rights Reserved. Published by Hobb’s End Books, a division of ACME Sprockets & Visions. Cover design Copyright © 2018 Wayne Kyle Spitzer. Please direct all inquiries to: [email protected]
Based upon “Flashback,” first published by Books in Motion/Classic Ventures, 1993. Reprinted by Hobb’s End Books, 2017.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this book is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Bella Ray very nearly threw up her hands as the crowd devolved into chaos, wondering what more she could possibly say that might organize them and steel them for the inevitable—what more she could possibly do to prepare them for what was coming ... and soon. Indeed, it could come at any moment.
“Order, order!” cried her big assistant—Gorjira, someone had dubbed him, and it had stuck—shoving back those closest to the stage, adjusting the strap of the rifle at his back so that it would stop sliding off his shoulder.
“What good is order if we’re all going to die anyway?” someone hollered—a young woman with cobalt hair and a plethora of tattoos, whom the newcomers called ‘The Acolyte of Blue’—something they’d yet to explain to Bella or to anyone else.
“Maybe you should broadcast the Lord’s Prayer again,” shouted someone else, referring to her decision to engage the listeners of Radio Free Montana in a group prayer just hours before the meeting—and a large percentage of the people laughed.
Bella looked to the newcomers’ leaders in what appeared to be total exasperation—as if to say: Help me, please?
At last one of them took to the stage—the man named Red—followed by his girlfriend, Charlotte, and finally the others: Roger, Savanna, and the convenience store clerk (whose name Bella still couldn’t remember). And yet the bedlam only intensified ... at least until Red raised his arms and began shouting, “Enough! That’s enough! Everyone just settle down!”
He waited until the ruckus began to peter out.
At last he said, “This bickering will get us nowhere. Believe me, I know. I’ve seen this movie before. I know everyone is scared ... that’s understandable. But, dammit—we’ve come this far without turning on each other’s throats, why now?”
Bella looked out over the crowd, at the faces of the survivors both young and old. Why now, indeed, she thought. When the Enemy draws near and his influence spreads ...
“Maybe you’ll mansplain it for us,” cried the Acolyte of Blue—and Red just stared at her, thinking of the Shambhala and realizing that some poisons, once they’d polluted the groundwater, just never went away.
“Maybe it’s because none of us ever recall holding an election,” shouted Someone Else, which was met with a round of raucous applause. “Or giving our permission to broadcast our whereabouts to the entire world.”
“That’s where it all started,” yelled still another, and pointed at Bella accusatorily. “If not for her they’d have never even known we existed ...”
“We should burn her goddamn radio station!” shouted the Acolyte.
“Yes, and topple its tower,” added Someone Else.
“Topple its tower!” someone shouted instantly, and began repeating the sentiment: “Topple its tower ...!”
And then approximately half the crowd had begun chanting, and Red looked at Charlotte who looked squarely back at him—and began to shake her head. We’re in over our heads, she seemed to be saying. This is no longer the Shambhala.
